


Wrap Party

by rotted_core



Category: IT (1990), IT (Movies - Muschietti), IT - Stephen King
Genre: 1990s Richie/2019 Eddie, After Party, Blow Jobs in a Car, Closeted Characters, Eddie Kaspbrak & Richie Tozier Bantering, M/M, Making Out, PERFECT tag omg, Suits, i don't even know how to tag this um, no one asked for this but here you go, there's a blowjob in the second part hence explicit, they make out in a coat closet
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-20
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:07:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,458
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24280288
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rotted_core/pseuds/rotted_core
Summary: Richie just finished filming a tv-movie special and Eddie is his very platonic, very friend-like plus one.
Relationships: Eddie Kaspbrak/Richie Tozier
Comments: 4
Kudos: 25





	Wrap Party

**Author's Note:**

> so i'm obsessed with swapping era characters lmao, i might write more of these??? i don't know, we'll see

Eddie swirled the contents of his champagne flute lazily, doing his best to duck away from any cigar or cigarette smoking patrons of the party— which happened to be nearly everyone. He had forgotten just how often everyone smoked in anyplace they could and he didn’t miss it, not for a second. But Richie had finally wrapped up a big TV movie special and was his plus-one, appointed ‘best friend’ and ‘ass kicker’ as he was fondly introduced as to his coworkers and bosses. He wasn’t sure where Richie was at the moment, he had been pulled away by a fellow actor for some photos and Eddie got antsy standing in one place with people trying to ask him where his date was and just how do you and Rich know each other?

He quickly saved his champagne from spilling when he bumped into someone’s back, holding the flute away just before any could spill on his suit or the other’s. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t watching where I was going—“ 

“Eds! There are you, bud, I was lookin’ all over for ya. Guess I couldn’t see over the crowd of suits and brown hair, you just blend right in.” Richie teased when he turned around with a big flourish of his arms upon seeing Eddie, grabbing his cheeks for a pinch or five. 

“Maybe I’m not sorry. How about I spit on your rental, hotshot?” Eddie quipped, smacking Richie’s hands away. 

His cheeks were rosy, indicating that he may have had a smidgen more to drink than Eddie did, but his eyes remained bright and clear, sharply focused on Eddie’s gaze. “This? A rental? How dare you!” Richie yawped and earned a hissed 'shh!' from his counterpart. He threw an arm companionably around Eddie’s shoulders, and Eddie was familiar with this song and dance. Make a big show, get some chucks, and disappear from the scene. He could only wonder as to what the disappearing act was for this time.

Chucks they did receive, and a comment of, “You don’t know when to quit, do ya, Tozier?” as Richie all but tossed Eddie into a hallway and bowed nearly down to the floor, Eddie watching it all from the back wall before the door shut to the rented ballroom. “Are we done already, Rich?” He asked, arm folded across his chest as he drank down the rest of his champagne. 

“Almost,” Richie answered after an unnecessarily long hum in thought, waiting to pluck the empty flute from Eddie’s hand and set it on the table decorated with flowers and various pamphlets of things to do around the city, replacing the flute with his own hand only after a careful glance around the hallway. “Follow me, Edward,” he whispered in an Australian explorer voice, leading him away by his hand. 

“Are we actually leaving? Because I cannot handle another woman blowing her smoke in my face every fucking time she asks me a question. Don’t call me darling, I’m probably older than you, or who knows, maybe she’s older than me but because she’s got so much plastic in her body she should have a Mattel label somewhere on her body.” Eddie raved all the way through the labyrinth of halls, up until Richie was opening a door and pushing him inside, promptly ignoring his exclamation of, “Richie, what the fuck?” 

His attempt of bitching even more was put to a quick stop when hands were on his face and tilting his head up, lips pressing to his own in probably the only effective way to shut him up.

Eddie’s first instinct was to grab the sides of Richie’s shirt, but they were both dressed to the nines, and rental or not, leaving with one person only to come back with a rumpled suit was not a smart idea, so he wrapped his arms around Richie’s shoulders and used them to lift himself higher. If Richie even dared to say anything, it would be his knee meeting his dick. 

But Richie seemed to be in a behaving mood, moving his hands down Eddie’s sides with a pitstop to squeeze his hips before coming to rest on his ass, taking no shame when it came to groping and kneading it. Now was not the time for this, Eddie had a quarter of a mind to think, the other parts of it too focused on nipping at Richie’s bottom lip and getting a knee between his own thighs. 

“I don’t think I told you how ravishing you looked tonight, Eds,” Richie breathed when he pulled away, hunching even further to press wet-lipped kisses to Eddie’s neck. 

“I don’t think you have either. Tell me more.” Eddie said, messing with the un-gelled pieces of hair at the nape of Richie’s neck. He had been told how ravishing he looked, was informed that had they had more time, Richie would have “taken him to frisko town” before arriving to the party, but who was Eddie to deny hearing such compliments again?

Richie emitted an amused hum as he pulled Eddie against himself, practically sitting him on his thigh with one bony knee holding him up. “I only have to be friendly to a few more people then we can hit the road, Jack. Take you out of these very pristine, finely tailored pants, fold them up nice and neat before you chew me out for potential creases...” 

“Fuck you,” Eddie rolled his eyes and hips, just once, over Richie’s thigh while tugging him into another kiss. “You’d be lucky if I didn’t make you hang them up properly before even getting to touch me, asshole.” He said after sucking champagne from Richie’s tongue, which had earned him a delightful, breathy exhale. He was teasing him, of course-- for the most part, he would have preferred not having to iron their suits before hanging them up when they did return home, but he would focus on that when he wasn’t sitting semi-hard astride Richie’s thigh in a coat closet, in a hotel, at a wrap party.

“You’re a cruel man, Mista Kaspbrak!” Richie quietly wailed in a feminine English accent, one that awarded him a swat to the back of his head. “You get that one.” He said in his own voice with a poke to Eddie’s nose before diving back in for a kiss, setting him back to his feet and walking him awkwardly over discarded lost but not found items, jabbing hangers, until he could press him to the wall behind him.

Richie pulled away and dropped his forehead to Eddie’s, mindful of their hair and slightly sweaty skin, taking a long moment to calm their thundering hearts and wandering hands slipping beneath suit jackets and poking fingers between done-up buttons. “I miss ya, Eds,” he admitted in the shared breaths between them, shutting his eyes when Eddie stroked his cheeks with his thumbs.

Eddie knew what he meant all too well. It was why he hardly ever agreed to come to events like these with Richie, it was too painful sometimes. Going from getting to secretly participate in pride parades that were loud and boisterous to having to be shoved right back into a closet, and in this instance, quite literally, it gouged at a deep scar on Eddie’s heart. He pressed a softer, longer kiss to Richie’s mouth, nothing rushed and heated despite his still-flushed body. “I know, Rich,” he murmured, “I miss you too.” 

He pressed a few more kisses to his mouth and chin before lightly pushing him away, tugging at both of their jackets to make sure they were as decent as they were before they went at each other like dogs. They probably needed a quick mirror check, but in the utter darkness, they looked fine to him. “Come on. Go talk to your bigwigs and if we make it out of here before one am, I’ll blow you in the car.” He bargained, patting Richie on the chest before blindly reaching for the door handle. 

He smiled at Richie’s exaggerated groan. “Ah, Eds, that’s not even fair!” He whined, kicking at the carpet and stuffing his hands in his pockets just as Eddie creaked the door open and light flooded in. 

Eddie fanned his face when he stepped out of the small closet, stopping at a mirror hanging in the stretch of hallways and fixing what pieces of his hair fell onto his forehead, taking a tissue from the table his champagne flute had been abandoned on and dabbing his skin. “Just take it as motivation,” he answered and plucked a sheet for Richie, handing it to him before grabbing his flute and walking back towards the ballroom, leaving a huffing Richie in his wake.

**Author's Note:**

> i ought to make a tumblr so i can ask for writing prompts lol...


End file.
